


Time is too early

by Conscious_ramblings



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Famous Louis, Lots of Sex, M/M, non famous Harry, perrie is in it only as a background character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 01:57:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4647945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Conscious_ramblings/pseuds/Conscious_ramblings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis comes back from a gig and there is a man playing the piano in the hotel bar. Harry is a struggling musician who plays in the bar to pay the bills. He is usually done by midnight but tonight he stayed later lost in the music. Louis finds him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time is too early

**Author's Note:**

  * For [h3l3n](https://archiveofourown.org/users/h3l3n/gifts).



> So this is for my darling hellnrocksstuff who told me a thing this morning which ended up leading to me needing to write this. Please blame or thank her as appropriate ;) I have so many other things to write, but instead I spent a day knocking out 4000 words about pianos and larry sex. 
> 
> This is the first thing I have published but not the first thing I have written. It hasn't been beta'd but one day I might get my beta to look over it... I basically just wrote it for Helene cause she is lovely, and wanted to publish it.
> 
> Title is from a Johnny Flynn song I was listening to as I wrote this

"Just leave me ok? The hotel has security, I’ll be fine.” Louis wasn’t usually a diva but it had been a long day, stuck at the venue long past normal due to issues getting him out safely. That of course meant he had managed to work his way through more of the rider bottle of single malt than he normally would have, and right now he was wearing a safety blanket made of pure Laphroaig. That was probably a contributing factor in him dismissing Alberto to let him wander the lobby of his hotel alone. 

Now that he was back the frustration that had built in the last few hours was itching at the base of his spine, driving him into perpetual motion. The post-gig high that he usually funnelled into a late night gym session had coalesced into something tangible that he could almost taste. It was too late for that now, even Louis wasn’t stupid enough to head to a hotel gym without security at three am, but he needed to do _something_.

Instead he followed the strains of piano music that drifted across the lobby from the direction of the bar. The bar was still open to a few stragglers, and Louis received a few curious looks, but it wasn’t like he was doing anything controversial, and the originators of those looks looked too half cut to be able to use their cameras even if he was. 

In the corner was a white grand piano, ostentatious was not a strong enough word. It’s surface was littered with discarded champagne flutes and that hurt Louis’ soul, even if he thought the piano looked quite ridiculous it was still a beautiful instrument and deserved more respect. The person playing the piano looked less ostentatious, rumpled shirt, suit trousers that seemed to be just a shade off fitting correctly, wild coffee coloured curls that fell in a curtain around his face, obscuring Louis’ view. 

The player was currently working his way through what Louis thought he recognised as Chopin’s sonata number 2. The music was dark, brooding, beautiful, played with careful hands and a gentle touch. It unravelled some of the tension and energy inside Louis, making him want to sit and admire the music and it’s originator for hours.

\---

Harry’s day had been shitty. He’d woken up to water pouring through his bathroom ceiling where the idiots above him had left the tap running, and so before he even got to work he’d been stressed. Then rich assholes who had more money than sense and a stream of entitlement a mile deep had invaded his bar, demanding he play for them and desecrating his baby by leaving drinks all over her. He’d been trying to get Perrie to clean up all night but she was apparently swamped behind the bar, and he’d given up god-knows-when ago. 

He should’ve finished work at midnight, but after the bar had slowly emptied he’d begun to lose himself in playing, starting by testing himself with the Goldberg variations and now halfway through his favourite Chopin. The music soothed his soul, running tendrils through him like someone carding their fingers through his hair, undoing his knots and tugs gently one by one. 

From the corner of his eye he caught movement at one of the tables closest to him, heart sinking at the thought of someone interrupting his playing. Flipping his hair to cover his face he continued with the slow methodical fingering of the keys, trying to sink back into the reverie he’d been in just minutes prior. It was to no avail, fingers faltered on the keys, stuttering and skipping like he hadn’t played this particular piece a million times before. 

He gave up on the Chopin, taking a deep breath and a sip from his beer which sat on a carefully placed coaster on the piano, giving her soft curves a stroke as he did so. Flexing his fingers till they cracked he reset himself and tentatively played the first discordant chord of Des Pas de La Neige, hoping that the clean simplicity of DeBussy would soothe him once again.

\---

When the player started in on one of DeBussy’s preludes Louis pushed himself out of his seat and made his way to the bar, feeling like he could be in a film where the sparse music soundtracked the loneliness and starkness of his soul, opening him up and baring him to the viewing public. He definitely needed more whisky.

Two minutes later he was adding just a tiny touch of water to the amber liquid, no ice, no messing. Smokey peat assaulted his nose before the smooth herbal caramel rinsed over his tongue, catching slightly in the back of his throat. He leaned back against the bar, legs crossed in front of him at the ankle, elbows wide on the bar. And he watched. Creepy as it was, he couldn’t drag his eyes away. The way the soft curls bounced on his shoulders, the way his shirt hung from him, exposing just a hint of nipple where it was unbuttoned to his navel, the tattoos he could spy where the shirt sleeves were pushed up, those collar bones. Louis was just appreciating what was clearly art, the whisky told him so.

“His name’s Harry,” the voice behind him was tinged with obvious amusement, “just in case you wanted to do more than catch flies staring.”

The girl had bleached blonde hair which was starting to unravel from it’s elegant chignon, making her look more real than barmaids in this sort of hotel tended to. The wide grin and sparkling eyes just added to that. He froze for a second, not used as a closeted popstar (who was very much straight thank you very much) to being called on his blatant ogling of piano players whose face he hadn’t even properly seen yet. The warmth and playfulness in her smile put him at ease, however, as did the high price he paid to stay in places where the staff’s job was worth more than what they might get from talking. 

“Umm, thanks. What’s he drinking?” Fuck it, Louis was just being polite, buying a drink for someone who was relaxing him more than the usual gym session ever did. Hell Louis should consider taking this Harry on tour with him and making him play every night to calm Louis down after a gig. 

A bottle of craft beer and another whisky were pushed in Louis’ direction with a nod towards Harry. A deep breath later and Louis pushed himself off the bar, drinks in hand, full of fake bravado fuelled by islay malt. When he got to the piano his resolve faltered, not sure what to do when the other man was clearly lost in the music. He placed the beer on the piano, hovering uncertainly until a tiny glance up at him and then down at the other half of the piano stool gave him the confidence sit. 

\---

Harry gave a soft snort as he saw the beer placed in front of him, Perrie was playing matchmaker again clearly. Harry really wasn’t in the mood though, his crappy day and crappy week in general having filled him up with so much bile there wasn’t room for casual flirting with cute guests who would be gone by morning, leaving him feeling even more hollow than he did already. He glanced up anyway, not wanting to be impolite, and caught sight of Louis Tomlinson, subject of his darkest fantasies and very much straight pop star. Well that was curious, it wasn’t often he was bought drinks by straight men, and definitely not by ones he had had a crush on since he was sixteen and had seen them on the X Factor. 

The prelude came to an end just after Louis joined him on the piano stool, Harry’s long fingers stilling over the ivory keys. 

“She’s beautiful.” The soft northern vowels of his fantasies muttered softly beside him, breath brushing his ear. “If slightly ostentatious.”

Harry turned in shock, appalled that someone would dare to call Eleanor such a thing. 

“Are you quite finished?” He raised an eyebrow, his distaste clearly visible on his face from the way Louis leaned back with his hands out in a gesture of supplication.

“Sorry, sorry.” The words seemed genuine. “Just the white you know, and the champagne glasses and...” Louis gestured expansively at the piano.

“It’s ok El, he didn’t mean it.” Harry bent to kiss the love of his life, before scowling at the other love of his life, what a surreal night this was turning out to be. 

“El is it? She sounds wonderful. D’you mind if I play?” Louis looked so small and soft despite the obvious haze of alcohol over his eyes, it was impossible to resist. Harry leaned back slightly to make room, sipping his fresh beer with one hand while he rested the other on the seat behind Louis. If this was happening he might as well get as close to the famous Tomlinson arse as was professionally allowed. 

“Eleanor.” He replied coolly, nodding in the direction of the keys.

“Pleased to meet you Eleanor,” Louis whispered, and damn if that wasn’t endearing, before he spread his hands over her keys and gently caressed them. 

Harry sucked in a shaky breath, holding it as his teenage crush, who was sat pressed against his side on a too small stool, launched into a tune that Harry knew all too well. Fireproof, Louis’ latest single from his latest album, Harry’s latest favourite song. The boy beside him was humming as he played. Harry’s heart felt about five sizes too large for his chest. 

When Louis reached the first chorus Harry couldn’t help joining in, and the grin he received in return was like the sun and moon and stars all shining upon him at once, blinding. Louis started singing properly, their voices harmonising naturally as the high, light strains of Louis’ voice melded with the deeper tones in Harry’s. 

It was only when the song came to it’s end that Harry noticed the lights in the bar had all dimmed apart from the ones above the piano and a few behind the bar itself. The other patrons had gone and only Perrie remained, cleaning quietly as she smiled over at him encouragingly. 

“Thank you for letting me play, and flattering me by singing along.” Louis muttered, still running his hands over the keys. A few moments later he looked up dazedly, seeming to finally notice the duskiness of the bar. “Oh fuck, sorry, am I keeping you? I’m keeping you aren’t I? Please don’t feel obliged to let me stay, or to stay with me, I’m sorry I lost track of the time.” 

Harry lifted his hand from the stool and placed it on the small of Louis’ back, marvelling for a second at how large his hands were in comparison to the older man. 

“Hey, it’s fine. Chill.” Louis visibly sagged back against Harry’s palm, swaying slightly with either tiredness or booze, or both, Harry wasn’t entirely sure. 

“I’m Louis.” The subject of all his ‘bloody hell I’m very gay aren’t I’ fantasties was turned towards him, hand held out, expectant look on his pretty face and Harry wasn’t sure what to do. “This is the part where you shake my hand and pretend you don’t know who I am, while telling me your name which I already know. Its a social ritual.” Louis nudged him in the side, smirking.

“Harry,” He drawled, shaking Louis’ hand. “So what do you do?” Mirth lit up Louis’ face. 

“I’m a bin man actually, highly lucrative job, lets me stay in places like this but the mornings are killer.” Harry giggled, taking another sip of the beer to help control his emotions.

“That must be fascinating, seeing the kind of stuff people throw out.” He intoned in as solemn a tone as possible, trying to control the laughter he could hear colouring his voice. “I am a famous musician myself, just released my fourth album, it’s called four. You may have heard of it? I’m very creative with naming my albums you see.”

“Cheeky sod.” Louis elbowed him in the ribs, dislodging Harry’s hand from where it was still curled around Louis’ waist, before Louis reached back and resituated it, just slightly lower, resting on the curve of his arse. Harry swallowed loudly, sure that Louis could probably feel his racing pulse through the thin material where his palm rested. 

The moment was broken by Perrie shouting over her shoulder that she was leaving, and to not do anything she wouldn’t do. Louis snorting before whispering questions in Harry’s ear about what exactly that excluded. 

Suddenly they were alone, the nearest person the night receptionist a good hundred meters away across the lobby. Tension fell over them like fog, choking Harry momentarily as he stared at the blue eyes and high cheekbones in front of him.

\---

Louis couldn’t quite believe he was doing this, he could only blame the whisky and the post gig high. That and Harry’s incredible green eyes and deep low voice that seemed to lull him into peace. For years he’d maintained his public closet pretty well, only teasing the boundaries of it with enough humour to be dismissed as a joke. A straight man teasing his fans who thought he might actually genuinely be gay. In private there’d been men, of course, friends and acquaintances whom he could trust, but no one special and definitely no fans who moonlighted as classical musicians in high end hotels. 

There was something about Harry though, something that made wanting to kiss him seem less of a risk and more of a physical need, an inevitability. 

His hand raised almost without his volition, two fingers gently running down Harry’s cheekbone, up his jawline, finally pressing into the spot just behind his ear. Harry’s eyes shuttered at the press, dark and blown when they opened again. He moved his hand back down Harry’s jaw, marvelling at how responsive this beautiful man seemed to be, how he leaned into Louis’ touch. The pad of his thumb teased over Harry’s full lips, which fell open needily, a soft gasp escaping. 

Leaning in he hesitated halfway to Harry’s lips, taking in the sheer want on the other man’s face for a moment before he slotted their lips together. They fit like a puzzle, warm and soft, just enough moisture for the kiss to be perfect. The word _home_ flitted through Louis’ brain, before he quickly stamped it out, blaming it on the whisky and concentrating instead on the way his tongue was moving against Harry’s lower lip, how it was licking into his mouth, how Harry tasted of beer, citrus and just a little touch of salt. 

“Come up with me.” He whispered into Harry’s mouth, a statement rather than a question, the groan Harry gave answering anyway.

Within minutes they were stumbling into a lift, Harry trying to hide his taller frame behind Louis for fear of getting in trouble for going to a guest’s room. Louis pushed him into the back wall of the lift, crowding his space possessively before pulling him in for another kiss. Harry melted into him easily, slotting between Louis’ legs like he had been born to be there. The soft noises Harry made from the back of his throat as they kissed, as Louis ground his crotch into Harry’s, were like porn to Louis. After what seemed like a million years the lift finally opened onto the top floor, Louis’ penthouse suite was across the hall and together they stumbled out, unwilling to break the kiss as Louis fumbled his key card into the door. 

As soon as the door shut their clothes were being ripped off, discarded in a trail that lead to the large bedroom and it’s king sized bed. As soon as Louis had Harry naked he pushed him onto the mattress, pinning him with his arms over his head, watching in delight as the beautiful man below him sunk into the restraint. Harry’s natural submissiveness was a beautiful thing to behold. The dark eyes rimmed in green, that looked up at him with an unnatural amount of trust considering how long they had known each other, held Louis’ gaze as one hand moved down to draw patterns into the soft skin of Harry’s torso. 

“So pretty, love. Just lying there for me, so perfect. D’you want me Harry? Want me to make you fall apart?” Louis murmured into Harry’s neck as he bit bruises into the pale skin, punctuating his words and Harry’s answering moans with his teeth. 

“Stay still for me, yeah? Gonna be a good boy aren’t you?” Harry nodded quickly, biting his lip like he was trying to hold in pleas for Louis to touch him, to mark him, to fuck him so hard he couldn’t remember his own name. Louis could be projecting but the look Harry was giving him said otherwise.

Louis took his time kissing and marking Harry, trailing his fingers softly over the peachy soft skin of Harry’s stomach, studiously avoiding the straining cock that was just begging for Louis’ attention. He moved down to Harry’s creamy white thighs, biting more bruises into the flawless skin there, watching with pride as he reduced the boy beneath him to a quivering, writhing mess. Finally it seemed that Harry could take no more, his lip slipping from between his teeth and his mouth opening to plead with Louis.

“Please, please touch me, please Lou, please, I need more, need you inside me, please.” Louis cut him off with a deep kiss, choosing that time to run one light finger up the underside of Harry’s cock where it lay dripping on his stomach. The way Harry jolted at his touch but refused to break the kiss made him moan in pleasure, what a treat this boy was turning out to be.

By the time he finally took Harry into his mouth the younger boy was close to tears with frustration and desire, it made Louis’ cock twitch as it became harder than he had ever thought possible. Swirling his tongue around Harry’s head he listened to the delightful moans, the begging that fell so easily now. There was a line where it stopped being teasing of Harry and started to be too much for Louis as well, and he was fast approaching that line. He needed to be inside of Harry about ten minutes ago or he would go insane. 

His wash bag was in the bathroom and it was a decision he was regretting with every fibre of his being, damn hotel rooms and damn the fact he didn’t have lube hidden in every drawer of this bloody place. 

“Wait here, I’ll be two minutes.” He kissed Harry gently on the nose, feeling his face mould into something that felt dangerously close to fond. 

When he came back Harry hadn’t moved a muscle, but Louis had spread a generous layer of lube over two fingers and was ready to test Harry’s ability to stay still. 

“Beautiful boy, such a good boy. Thank you Haz, thank you for being so good for me.” Harry wailed at the praise, writhing like he was fighting his own body and it’s need to move. It was the hottest thing Louis had ever seen in his life. 

Climbing between his boys legs he nudged them open, gently lifting his hips to place a pillow under him. One finger moved forward to tease Harry’s perfect dark pink hole, marvelling as it clenched and spasmed at even the lightest touch. Louis was going to have to dedicate some time to eating Harry out, to watching his reactions as Louis’ tongue breached his tight rim, but that was for another day, another time. 

His finger slipped past the tight muscle, marvelling at the warmth inside Harry as he moved his finger gently in and out, making sure every inch of him was slippery with lube before he added a second. Harry’s breath hitched on the invasion, gasping for oxygen as his rim clenched around Louis’ fingers. 

“Fuck Lou, fuck. Please, give me more. Need more.” Louis’ heart soared at how easily the nickname was falling from Harry’s lips, how right it sounded, but he wasn’t ready to think about that really when he had two fingers in his boy (and when exactly had Harry become ‘his boy’?) up to the knuckles. 

“Nearly there, baby. Don’t want to hurt you.” Louis bit down on Harry’s collarbone, actions belying his words. “Not without meaning to anyway.”

A third finger joined the two already probing Harry, muscle stretching and fluttering divinely around them. Louis couldn’t wait to feel Harry’s warmth and tightness around him properly, but he wasn’t quite done teasing Harry yet, and so with a subtle twist of his wrist he pushed the pads of his fingers gently against Harry’s prostate, holding him tightly as he fell apart in Louis’ arms. It was a thing of beauty, the way Harry keened into his touch, it should probably be filmed and shown in some art gallery somewhere.

“M’ready, Lou please.” Harry muttered from where his face was pushed into the pillow to try and stop himself crying out. 

Louis wasted no time, dipping down only to lick at the pre-come that had pooled in the hollow of Harry’s perfect stomach decorating the fern tattoos that were painted there. By the time he had a condom on and had slicked himself up with lube he was almost shaking with the need to make Harry come, to taste more of him, to lick it from every inch of Harry’s chest. 

Gently easing Harry’s hands from above his head he clasped them at his sides, not willing to let go, lacing their fingers together as he gently kissed Harry. Then he reached down and gently pushed himself against Harry’s rim, easing himself into the heat and tightness that he had craved so much. When he was fully inside he paused, adjusting to the tightness, letting Harry adjust too. Harry’s face was sheer perfection, his mouth hung open, eyes rolled back in his head with pleasure. 

“Move.” The word was hardly audible, it was only due to how carefully Louis was watching him that he caught it. It was all the encouragement he needed, as he eased himself out a few inches before groaning as he pressed in deep. From there it was hot and rough, Louis’ hips snapping in and out hard, both men gasping into each other’s mouths, sharing what little air they could get ahold of. It felt like nothing Louis had ever felt before, sex had never been this good, had never been this animalistic. The desire and want he felt for this boy was crawling up his spine as his orgasm built, building higher and higher. 

He was determined that Harry would come first, that Louis would come licking Harry’s release off his toned body, and so he wrapped one hand around Harry’s rock hard cock and stroked him as he murmured endearments into his boy’s ear. 

“Come for me baby, show me how pretty you look when you fall apart, come on baby. I want to see you screaming for me” He nibbled on Harry’s earlobe, pulling gently on the curls that had enticed him so much from the start. 

Harry’s head was thrown back as his back arched, his whole body shuddering as he was wracked by his orgasm. Louis’ name falling from his lips like a prayer. 

“So pretty, so perfect. Fuck Harry you feel amazing.” Louis dipped his head down and kitten licked at the come that was pooling in Harry’s collarbones, amazed by the perfect human under him. It wasn’t long before his own orgasm followed, taste of Harry on his tongue as he burned in the pleasure of his release. 

\---

Harry must have passed out soon after Louis pulled out, cause he woke in the early hours to a pretty boy wrapped around him and his torso having been cleaned at some point. His smile was soft as he leaned back and placed gentle kisses on Louis’ forehead and then carefully extracted himself from the bed. Padding through to the kitchen of the suite he made himself coffee before taking it and a blanket out onto the balcony. 

He sat on a deckchair and sipped his drink, wrapped in his blanket and watched the sun rise over London. The night before felt like the best kind of dream, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before Louis woke up and the dream ended. It had been the best night of Harry’s life but he knew the score, he knew that hotel guests didn’t stay, especially ones who had number one singles in seventy odd countries around the world. For once though he was okay with that, happy to tuck it away in his box of special memories to be pulled out whenever he needed a boost. 

The patio doors slid open behind him, and he heard footsteps crossing the balcony. Don’t turn around, prolong the moment, prolong the dream. Dressing gown clad arms wrapped around his neck from behind and a soft kiss was placed on the spot behind his ear before a single word was whispered just loud enough for him to catch.

“Stay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks loves, I am conscious--ramblings on tumblr


End file.
